


For the (dance dance) revolution!

by greenet



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenet/pseuds/greenet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But most importantly,” Captain Ray Holt said. “Jake must never know.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the (dance dance) revolution!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samalander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samalander/gifts).



> Samalander said in the letter that she just wanted Terry and Holt to be awesome, but also how she likes the comedy arising from the characters on the show, so I wanted to play on the fact that Terry and Holt can come off as the saner older brothers or mom and dad of the precinct but they have their kooky sides as well. Do not look for realism in Dance Dance Revolution tournaments in this fic, however, because there is none. 
> 
> I hope you like it and that it makes you smile!
> 
> Thanks to littlerhymes for looking it over for me!

“But most importantly,” Captain Ray Holt said. “Jake must never know.” 

Terry brushed sweat out of his eyes and nodded in agreement. Jake must never know about their secret Dance Dance Revolution tournament participation. For one, he would probably also want to participate — once he was done mocking them — and that would bring Boyle in, because he wouldn’t let his best friend down, and Amy’s competitive spirit would awaken and Gina would let herself be persuaded to be on Amy’s team, and before they knew it, the entire precinct would be involved. 

Rosa, Terry suspected, could probably kick all their asses on her own, but was more likely to get some popcorn and laugh at all their struggles. 

In the end, it was much easier if Jake just never found out.

They were practicing in Terry’s workout room, on a Dance Dance Revolution machine Holt had acquired through one of his exes who had turned out to have a sister who worked for the people who made the machines. Terry wasn’t even surprised anymore by Holt’s bizarre connections. 

Kevin had come along with them to get the machine, staring stone-faced as Holt and Alan the Ex exchanged cool greetings. 

“Ray.” 

“Alan.” 

They nodded at each other. 

“All right, break it up, you two,” Kevin said smoothly, pushing his way politely between them. “We’re just here for the machine. You can reconnect and reminisce later.” 

Terry blinked. Was that what they were doing?

They had left with the machine, and then Kevin and Holt had had an argument. Possibly? It was really hard to tell. 

“I just worry that we don’t have the kind of wild passionate relationship you had with him,” Kevin said, not a trace of worry in his expression. 

“Alan and I had nothing like the loving and passionate relationship we have,” Holt assured him. “What Alan and I had was merely animalistic copulation. With you, on the other hand, I have a relationship that is more akin to that of Harry Beck’s relationship with the London Underground.” 

“Oh Ray,” Kevin said. There might have been some softening around the eyes. “You always know just what to say.”

Holt looked like he was about to have an expression as well, so Terry got the hell out of there, carrying the machine with him as he went. It was surprisingly light. He spent the night hugging Sharon and going “I’m so glad you don’t have emotions!” Needless to say it didn’t do much to endear Holt to Sharon.

 

*

Jake found out two weeks later, when he came on an unscheduled godfather visit. He was quite diligent in his duties, but still had only the haziest of ideas of what godfatherhood actually entailed, so sometimes it meant that he showed up with Chinese food for everybody and sometimes it meant that he read to Ava for an hour about foxes and snakes and brave watchmen and their eternal adversary, the Pontiac Bandit. 

It was sort of sweet. At least when he didn’t arrive in the middle of one of Terry’s private practice sessions.

“Cagney, Lacey! Get him!” Terry yelled and tried to throw the Dance Dance Revolution machine out the window. It was a long shot, but he felt it was worth a try. 

It didn’t fit. 

“I thought you were my friend!” Jake looked wounded and betrayed. He was standing in the doorway with one twin clinging to each leg. Terry’s daughters were the best daughters. “My friend-friend! How could you keep this a secret from me?” 

“I am! I just…” Terry put the machine down and sighed. It was time to come clean and hope it wouldn’t affect productivity at the office too much. He’d already had to limit Captain Holt’s practice time at the office to thirty minutes before lunch. Why was everybody he worked with so insanely competitive? 

And then he considered the prize. 

Sometimes insane competitiveness was warranted.

“Well then?” Jake crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s all this about?”

*

“I’m in it for the fame,” Gina said. “For the glory!” She was standing on her desk with her fist raised triumphantly in the air. She was wearing one of the most awful Hannukah sweaters anybody had ever seen with no hint of irony. 

“And not for the two tickets to see Hamilton on Broadway?” Terry said suspiciously. 

Gina looked blank. “Who?”

“It’s a musical all about the creation of America’s banking system,” Holt said as he walked out of his office. He looked a little emotional. It was possible that Terry hadn’t been entirely truthful when he’d described the rewards to Holt. 

“Uh,” Jake said, looking up from his computer. He really chose the most inopportune moments to show off his mad Google skills. “That’s not really—“ Terry glared and made throat slicing movements. “—All it’s about! It’s also about the founding of our great country! And stuff!” He lowered his voice slightly. “I’m still the best godwife, right?” 

Terry sighed. “Yes, you’re still the best godwife.” 

Jake beamed. 

*

“I can’t compete against the Captain!” Amy looked horrified at the mere idea of it. 

Gina spun around and smiled brightly in Rosa’s direction.

Rosa raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ll introduce you to my friend Bruce,” Gina bargained. “He’s a bike messenger and his butt is ah-mazing.”

“Done.”

Terry went to tell Holt that they needed to step up their training regimen. 

*

“We need to be perfectly coordinated,” Holt said. “You need to jump in at the exact right time.” 

Terry nodded seriously. 

They had been training diligently every day for the past week, and Terry thought they definitely had a solid shot. Jake and Boyle had no hope in hell, as they had spent more time trying to spy on the other teams than working out, and Hitchcock and Scully were non-starters, but both Terry and Holt were concerned about the Rosa/Gina team-up. In more ways than one. 

Gina had actually filed paperwork properly _and_ answered her phone like a normal PA yesterday, which had been terrifying to everybody. She was probably trying to psych everybody out. 

It was working.

“I think if we also work on our rhythm together, we’ll be perfectly coordinated for a relay,” Terry said. He handed over the training schedule he had put together for the final five days before the competition. It was detailed down to the yogurt brand for snack breaks.

*

Terry was feeling good about their chances. They had kept working hard, they hadn’t let Gina psych them out, and yesterday Holt had even had a conversation with Sharon about baby Ava which hadn’t lead to Sharon throwing him bodily out of the house and locking the door. Progress on many levels! He hummed to himself in satisfaction and grabbed his yogurt from the fridge. 

He walked past Holt’s office and saw the Captain busily practicing his cross-step moves. As he walked past Gina’s desk he ignored her glower and hisses in favor of beaming magnanimously at her. Gina glared back.

But there was really no need for them to keep worrying about Rosa and Gina. There was just no way those two could work together without arguing long enough to get in synch. Holt and Terry was a team! They were in synch in ways Rosa and Gina could only dream of. He could afford to relax now. 

Terry sat down behind his desk and started reading Jake’s latest report while eating his yogurt. 

Five minutes later, Rosa walked up to Gina, spun around in a circle as she passed the desk and handed Gina a sandwich while grabbing a sheet of paper out of Gina’s hand in one smooth movement. It was very dainty looking considering Rosa was wearing combat boots and a leather jacket.

Gina looked over at him and smirked.

Terry blinked. Maybe they should be a little worried.

 

* 

In the end, Rosa and Gina won — The former ballerina and the woman who had failed to get into _So You Think You Can Dance?_ five times to date. In second and third came some people they’d never heard of and thus didn’t care about, but Terry and Holt made it to a respectable fourth. Not that it did any good, but it kept Terry from feeling too bad about it, even though they’d lost the precious, precious Hamilton tickets and would have to wait until next September like everybody else. 

“Aw, you’re my bestie! Let me hug you!” Gina exclaimed, and Rosa looked on the verge of violence for a moment until she realized that Gina was talking to their trophy. 

“Here,” she said gruffly, thrusting an envelope in Terry’s direction. “I don’t care about this stuff — too much like ballet — and Gina has a new best friend and doesn’t care.” 

Terry glanced towards Gina, who was now busy posing with the trophy and taking the perfect selfie. 

“You can’t fool me,” Terry said, as he grabbed the tickets. “You’re just a big softie, admit it.” 

Rosa’s eyes narrowed dangerously. 

Terry made a speedy retreat to Captain Holt who was looking dejected. “Look, Captain! Tickets!” 

*

Holt looked starry-eyed every time somebody sang something about banking or constitutions, while Terry sobbed his way through the entire second act.


End file.
